A Backwards Cliche
by HarryRiddleBiggestFans
Summary: Quinn, the bad girl jock, knows she has nothing in common with Rachel, her best friend's sweet, nerdy, younger sister. Not like it matters, because she's in love with Rachel anyway. ONESHOT, FaBerry!


_**Summary : Quinn, the bad girl jock, knows she has nothing in common with Rachel, her best friend's sweet, nerdy, younger sister. Not like it matters, because she's in love with Rachel anyway.**_

I, Quinn Fabray, feel like my life should be a movie. You know, one of those romantic lovey-dovey crap films that include every cliche in the book. The nerd and the jock, the best friend's older brother, the bad boy and the good girl.

But this time everyting's backwards. The guy in my story is not a guy, it's a girl, Rachel, is the nerd, and I'm not a good girl either, I'm the jock. Rachel's not my best friend's older brother, but she's my best friend's _younger _sister. And I guess you could say that I'm the bad girl-what with all the classes I ditch and my problem wth people telling me what to do-and she's the sweet, lovable girl.

You'd think because I'm a year older than her that I wouldn't be physically attracted to her, but I am. She's shorter than me obviously, but really tiny, which is nice and I found it adorable and suit her, and she has the biggest chocolate eyes and browns wavy hair that always looked good on her face. She's still got that girlishness when she smiles, which make her look so adorable I could kiss her forever, and she's always wearing some geeky outfit complete with a sweeter with animal on it.

I, on the other hand, thorougly enjoy the color black and boots with five inch heels. I have a golden blonde hair, my eyes are as blue as the ocean, and when I roll on my shiny cherry lip gloss, I can make guys do a double-take with a simple sway of my hips as I pass them in the halls. And I'm the best goal keeper our school's girls soccer team has ever seen, which no one will argue.

So how exactly do we have anything in common?

We don't, not really.

But that doesn't seem to bother her, because she's so nice to me whenever I'm hanging with Santana, her sister, at their house.

If she's watching something in the living room and I walk in, she'll silently hand me the remote and allow me to change it to whatever I want. If she's making herself lunch, she'll make a second plate for me, always getting it exactly the way I like it. And ever since she somehow found out that I'm secretly in love with romance novels, she's been bringing me one whenever she goes to the book store to get new books.

Like I said, she's a total sweetie.

I should be completely turned off by that, considering I'm not always the nicest person usually sweet people annoy the hell out of me. But for some reason I find myself falling more and more in love with the girl every day.

Unfortunately, Santana isn't so approving of the idea of us being anything together.

Just last week she caught Rachel staring at me across the cafeteria from where she sat with the rest of her little junior friends, and it hand't turned out to well.

**(The Week Before)**

Santana laughed mockingly and pointed her yogurt-covered spoon at me. "Oh my God. My little sister is so freakin' in love with you Q, it's ridiculous."

I looked down at my chicken burger in an effort to avoid her piercing chocolate gaze. "Yeah? How do you figure that?"

"Seriously? She does stuff for you all the time and she's always staring at you. Her face even lights up like a Christmas tree when you walk into the room."

I felt my cheeks get hot but, thankfully, she didn't notice. She was way too busy making the rips in her jeans the size of her head.

I bit my lip. _Did she really feel like that about me? _Because it would be so goddamn amazing if she did. Before Santana said that, I never would have believed I affected her the same way she affected me.

Santana snorted, jerking me out of my hopeful reverie. "It's really pathetic. I mean, how could she even imagine that you'd like her like that. She's such an annoying, immature little dwarf."

I had no idea when my loyalty to Rachel had surpassed my loyalty to Santana, but I felt a strong urge to defend her. "I don't think of her like that. I actually think she's really cute, and she's sweet, and she's definitely not immature."

Santana gaped at me for a whole minute before leaning forward and flicking my nose.

I flinched back and scowled at her, rubbing the sore spot. "What the hell, Santana?"

She stabbed her spoon into her yogurt with a splat, "Are you crazy? You can't _like_ my younger sister. You guys have absolutely nothing in common."

I tried not to grit my teeth. "I don't see why that should matter."

"Are we seriously talking about you getting it on with my _sister? _That's so gross!"

I admit it: I lost my temper when she kept going on and on about how disgusting it would be and how stupid I was to even _think_ about her dumb sister like that.

"You know what, Santana?" I jerked my bac pack strap over my shoulder and stood up with my trash clenched in my fist. "It's none of your business who I want to date or 'get it on with' or whatever. And you're being a real bitch right now. So when you decide to grow up and get your head out of your ass and realize you can't control everything, call me."

With that, I'd stomped away and hadn't looked back.

**(The Present)**

Santana had been on a mission to pick a fight with me everyday since then. If fact, she had just tried again a minute ago, which was why I was, for the second time, storming out of the cafeteria. But this time, I only got fifty feet before a hand reached out and grabbed mine.

I scowled at Rachel, who's backpack was thrown haphazardly over her shoulder, and shoved my hair out of my face impatiently. "What?"

"What's wrong?"

She looked so concerned, her doe brown eyes wide, and I couldn't stay angry. Especially not at her, even though she was the reason I was in this mess.

I gave her a small smile. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

She shook her head, her wavys flying every which way. "You were fighting with Santana about something, and you looked upset."

I had to bite my lip te keep from permanently attaching my lips to hers. She's such a sweet heart. "It's nothing. Hey, do you wanna walk home with me today? My dad's car broke down again so he had to borrow mine."

Her brow furrowed as she jammed her hands in her pockets. I was distracted momentarily by the way her shirt pulled tight across her chest, but I forced myself to pay attention when she said, "If nothing's wrong, then why don't you get a ride with me and Santana like you usually do when you don't have your car?"

I dragged a hand down the side of my face and continued my walk out of the cafeteria, not checing to see if she followed.

A second later she stepped up beside me. "Where are we going?"

"My locker. Are you walking home with me today or not?"

Rachel hesitated but the said, "Okay," and I think my heart skipped a few beats.

Rachel was waiting for me when I pushed through the school's front doors. I froze for a second just to take her in.

She was leaning against at cherry blossom tree, her backpack over one shoulder and her hair windblown. My breath hitched a little. She was so beautiful.

I released a stupid, girly sigh and tried to act nonchalant as I walked up to him, boots clicking against the concrete. "Hey Rachel."

She grinned and my heart sped up. "Ready to go?"

I nodded. We got out of the parking lot, past the first stop sign before I broke the silence. "So how's school been?"

Rachel shrugged, cheking for cars. "Fine, I guess. My grades could be better."

"What? Did poor wittle Rachel get a B?"

She smirked. "Nah, I got an A minus."

I snorted, kicking a rock so that it rolled into a blush. "Dude, I'm lucky if I get all Cs."

"You'd have better grades if you ever bothered to show up. What do you even do when yo're not at school?"

I stared at the sky and said evasively, "My grades are fine. I don't need all As to get a soccer scholarship."

She slapped my arm playfully. "I'm serious. What do you do when you ditch?"

"You really wanna know?

"Duh."

As we turned the corner onto our street, I grimaced. "I don't actually go anywhere. I just sneak into the library and read books."

It took me a moment to realize she'd stopped walking. I turned to her quizzically as she gaped at me. "What?"

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish before she finally mumbled, "You read instead of going to class? How does that make sense?"

I shrugged. "I like libraries."

"Whatever, Quinn. I just hope you know that the whole liking libraries thing kind of ruins your bad girl, jock image."

"Ha, ha," I replied dryly.

She laughed and we started down the street in comfortable silence. Her hand kept brusing mine, so I decided to be bold and slid my hand into hers.

Her expression was strtled, but she automatically slipped her fingers through mine. "Wha – What are you doing?"

"Holding your hand." I gazed up at her through my lashes and flirted, "Am I moving too fast for you?"

She gulped and stared at me with wide eyes.

I couldn't help it. She just looked so cute. I laughed and buried my face in her arms, inhaling the floral scent of laundry detergent, and wrapped my other hand around our joined ones.

She stopped walking and I found that we were standing in front of her house. But I didn't want her to go. I wanted to spend more time with her, maybe find out if there was a chance between us.

"Rachel?"

Her face was totally red and she was avoiding my gaze. "What?"

I lifted my hand up and cupped her cheek, forcing her to face me. Searching her eyes for any hint of what she was feeling, I hoped that the red streaking her cheeks was a good sigh. "What are you thinking?"

She cleared her throat. "Not much. Do you – do you want to come inside?"

The brilliant smile she gave me in return to my happy "okay!" made me want to melt.

First thing we did was get some food. Once we had that, we plopped down side – by – side on the couch in the living room and turned the TV on. She handed me the remote, like usual, but this time I shook my head. "No, you always let me choose. It's your turn."

"But really, I don't mind –"

"You're going to spoil me." I sing – songed.

"I just like making you happy." She replied quietly.

I froze with a potato chip half – way to my mouth. _What?_ I dropped the chip on the coffee table and turned to her curiously. "What do you mean?"

Her expression turned humorously mortified. "Oh my god, did I say that out loud?" I nodded and she stuttered, "It d – didn't mean any – anything. J – just never mind."

We sat in silence until I blurted, "I like making you happy, too, Rachel."

"What do you mean?" she echoed.

I shrugged. Apparently, we were going to do this as opposite the norm as possible, and that meant that I was going to make the first move. "I like you. A lot. And I'm not just talking the I-want-to-hang-out-with-you-because-you-do-nice-th ings-for-me kind of like. I'm talking about." –I took a deep breath and found courage in the way her eyes crinkled at the corners as if she was trying not to smile- "the I've-been-in-love-with-you-for-over-a-year-now kind of like."

She stared at me for what seemed like forever before grabbing me and jerking me against her chest. Her lips were just a breath away from mine now, and her face was so close I could see the little specks of dark in her eyes through her lenses.

"I love you too, Quinn."

And then she pressed her lips to mine and I thought I'd died and gone to... wherever I was going when I died. Even if it was Hell, it sure felt like Heaven.

Right then, I was so high on the feeling of her tongue dancing across my lips, asking for entrance, to be anything but accepting of her demands. If she'd asked me to rob a bank for her in that moment, I totally would have.

I ran my hand up her arm, along her shoulder, and came to a rest with her hand cupping my neck, and it was so gentle and intimate that she gasped. I took the opportunity to slip inside her mouth, and she felt light headed at some of the things I was doing with her tongue.

For such a sweet, innocent girl, she could kiss better than all my exes combined.

We were just getting really into it when the front door slammed open.

Rachel and I jolted away from each other, both breathing in heavy, shuddering breaths. I put both hands to my face and felt how hot my cheeks were, but my reaction to Rachel was forgotten when Santana just continued to gawk at us.

"Hey, sis," Rachel said uncertainly.

I shook my head to get rid of the cobwens. "Hi."

She didn't, or maybe couldn't, say anything.

So we all sat there awkwardly for a while. I really wanted to go back to kissing my new girlfriend, but I'm pretty sure it's frowned upon to ignore one person to make out with another. Pity.

Just as I was starting to work up the nerve to say something, Santana broke the tension with a blurted, "OhmygodIcan'tbelieveyouwerejustkissing."

"I told you earlier." I said, impatiently. "that I like her."

"You did?" Rachel cut in, looking very happy. We both ignored her.

"Yeah, but-but." –Santana ran a hand through her hair, looking baffled for probably the first time in her life- "I didn't actually think you liked her enough to want to spend an extended lenght of time with her, let alone kiss her."

"Just so we're clear, I like her enough to do a hell of a lot more than that." I guess I could have just told her that I loved her, but I didn't think she'd believe me.

She blew out a big breath and grimaced. "Oh god. Whatever. I don't care. Just don't be all mushy in front of me, please, or I might barf on you." And with that she disappeared intto her room without another word.

I waited a moment, then tackled Rachel back into the couch so that I was lying on top of her, my hair falling around us. "That went well."

She straightened herself and smiled up at me, her hands rubbing up and down my back. "I guess. You know, I would've still asked you out even if she said she didn't want us to be together." I said.

"Are you aying you want to go out on a date with me?" she asked playfully, running her thumb across my bottom lip.

I looked a little distracted when she answered, "Well yeah."

"Hmm, I'll have to think about it. Why don't you show me how good your skills of persuasion are in the meantime." She said playfully.

"Yes, ma'am." I replied grinning.

Oh, and persuade her, I did.


End file.
